


Paradise Left

by maniacalmole



Series: Farsighted [1]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Gen, M/M, The Garden of Eden
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-05-28
Packaged: 2018-06-09 08:36:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6898852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maniacalmole/pseuds/maniacalmole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crawly and Aziraphale meeting in the new World, the Garden of Eden, and the countdown to the day everything changes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crawly experiences Existence. What is it like to go from nothing to everything? To see all of the world for the first time?

36 days Before

                There was the world. There was _everything_. Earth, air, shadow, light, water, stone—for the very first time, existence. There was life. It was spirits made visible, made into forms, plants and animals. Moving, breathing, seeing, hearing, feeling. Needing—but that, life, was far too big a thing to comprehend all at once. Best to take it piece by piece.

                First, there were the plants. They were _everywhere_. In the beginning, the world was all a garden. They could only be described by words that had never existed before. They were all colors and shapes, brown stalks stretching way up high, green triangles and diamonds waving in the breeze. Splashes of red, purple, dots of blue, yellow. There were textures and scents. They changed every day, every minute, the plants grew and grew, just when the whole world seemed about to overflow, they grew more, and expanded the garden with them.

                Then there were the animals. More shapes, more textures, yet none of them could be defined by these alone. They all had names. There were so many words, in this world. The animals scurried and scuffled, some drifted through the waters, some fluttered through the air. They feared and fought and searched for things and built even more. There were so many choices being made.

                There was the world, and there was so much of it. It was all there, all for you to see, to feel. To _live_ in.

                It all stood before him. Crawly stared with wide eyes, taking it all in, for the very first time. Existence. The world. Whatever you wanted to call it. He’d had _no idea_.

                He was on a hill that overlooked a forest, a mass of green that undulated with the breeze. Air was something he hadn’t been expecting, either. The way it surrounded you and held you, constantly, as though it were keeping you there, a part of this place. Those who were ‘alive’ needed it. He took a deep breath. The effect of that alone was staggering. It filled you. One moment, you had no form at all, and the next, you were something that could be filled to the brim.

                Crawly let out the air. He blinked and slowly walked forward. Walking—this was new, too, but apparently his form came equipped with it. His form…it was a strange thing to have. He felt contained, but he didn’t mind. It felt solid. He wasn’t sure about how he looked yet. Supposedly all the angels, and used-to-be-angels, looked similar, in this new world of vision, but he had not seen anyone else to compare. There were words to describe how each form moved, like ‘walk’, and some were words that the angels had already used, like ‘run’, for those whose words had moved the quickest in heaven. Crawly was named after the way he had edged around trouble, sliding in between the cracks and sinking himself lower just to avoid conflict. It was not a name he had given himself. He wondered what ‘crawl’ would come to mean in this physical world.

                He continued down the hill. Technically, he was not in The ‘Garden’ yet. That would not be allowed so easily, but at this stage, the boundaries were not very clear. Life had taken over nearly everywhere. It was as though the creation of life was still spilling out across the earth, racing to cover every nook and cranny. Plants spread first, animals were soon to follow. Crawly was shocked to catch a glimpse of some sort of spirit whenever any beast came near enough for him to look into its eyes. They all scrambled away, afraid of him, but he didn’t mind, being wary, himself. He knew there would be more like him that he might run into, eventually—not exactly like him, of course. There would be no other demons here, himself being the one that Below had sent to do the task, but there were some angels around to protect His creation. Crawly would deal with them later. There were also, of course, the humans. The purpose of his mission—well, the mission he had been sent to do. He had not come up with the idea, and he had certainly not volunteered, but he hadn’t protested as much as the other demons would have, either.

                He had been curious. It was the same kind of curiosity that had driven him to make each seemingly small decision that had ended, eventually, with his ‘fall’. Too many questions for a proper angel. But this time, curiosity had been completely worth it.

                Crawly walked until he reached the bottom of the hill. Here, if he kept on going, the forest would swallow him completely. He kept on going anyway.

                It was vast and green and cool. He liked the coolness. It felt so refreshing, after all his time…Down There. There was even more to see of the plants up close, more shapes and textures. The air was different, and there was more light than he had been expecting, peering in from between the leaves. Light. That was a good one. He’d known that God had created light, he’d heard it from the others who had been more involved with monitoring the ‘plans’ of the other side. They said light would be something to help the humans get by, something to help them see, and to keep them warm. Oh, but it was so much more than that. Crawly stopped in the shadow of a particularly tall tree. In front of him, on the ground and on the smaller shrubs and ferns that grew there, the light from the sun only reached the earth in patches, dapples that shimmered when the leaves moved in the wind. Everyone had heard how God had created light by now. Without having seen it, they said, ‘it was good’, but if they only _knew_. If they could see the way it moved around with the darkness, the shadows and shade, the dancing spots of sun through the leaves. None of them could have a single clue.

                Crawly smiled in amazement. He had been uncertain, at first, about his task. ‘God—against whom you have recently, and somewhat absent-mindedly, rebelled—God, the All-Powerful, has Created something entirely inconceivable. There is a new form of being which the entire legions of heaven have been sworn to protect. You. Small one they call Serpent who is trying to blend into the corner. Go mess it up.’ ‘Serpent’ was another name they called him. It referred to creeping and twisting, the way he would twist his words. He had gone, though, not just because the other demons would likely have done unspeakable things if he hadn’t. But he had fallen from heaven partly because he had wondered things that he shouldn’t have. Now, he had wondered what all this fuss was about. So he had gone.

                Maybe this would end up being something he should not have wondered, too. Perhaps he would end up killed by angels, destroyed by his own kind for having bungled his terribly unclear job, or banished into nothingness by the Lord Himself. Crawly took a moment to learn what fear felt like in this new, physical world. But then he moved on. There was none of the heavenly host around now. Only the new creations.

                Crawly entered the new world with a grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some people, when wondering how the serpent moved before God cursed it to move on its belly, proposed that it bounced around on its tail. Since in our fandom the ‘serpent’ was a demon, I went with the idea that he started out with the same human-like form that angels have, instead. Maybe I should write another fic with the first hypothesis?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crawly meets someone new. Everyone knows about the Eastern Gate. But what if it wasn’t the only one?

25 days Before

                Sometime later, the Serpent’s grin was not so big. With the creation of Earth had come the invention of Time, and Crawly had yet to get used to it. It was something he would have to mention to the people downstairs. He was sure they’d have a lot of fun playing about with it; so far they had shown an unnerving appreciation for things that could drive people crazy.

                So, it had only been a few days, but the fact that Time existed now meant that Crawly was aware of every second that passed without him being able to enter The Garden. The novelty of breathing had not yet worn off. The excitement of trying to sneak into a place guarded by the hosts of heaven certainly had.

                This night, he circled towards the Eastern side for the third time. The first two times, he had seen the blazing sword from a distance and had decided that the other gates might afford him a better chance of getting in. There were four in total, one in each direction, and the three others hadn’t. The sun was setting in the west, so the direction he was facing was already filled with shadows. He was a bit less in awe, by now, of the shapes and textures of the plants as he pushed his way through them and crept towards the distant glowing flame. The plants were dewy. The texture was damp. It was…unpleasant.

                Crawly blinked the moisture out of his eyes as he made it to a small clearing, from which he had a better view of the Eastern Gate. His slitted pupils dilated as he focused. There was the guardian, holding aloft the flaming sword. The demon had to admit it looked impressive. He sighed—an action, made possible by this new ‘air’, that he was already finding very useful at expressing one of his most common emotional states. He walked forward.

                ‘ _Fiddle with the rules and see what happens_.’ Crawly laughed in contempt. That was what they thought he did. It was why they had sent him. There were demons who were far better than he was at intimidating, or fighting, the heavenly host. Instead of sending one of them, they had sent Crawly. Perhaps trying to blend into the corner at the meeting had been a bad idea, because that was exactly the type of person they needed. A demon known for picking at things, beliefs included, piece by piece, until they fell apart. That was what they had needed to get into The Garden, instead of a few demon warriors to fight off the angels.

_Because fighting off the angels would be bloody impossible_ , Crawly thought, resenting it quite a lot as he made his way stupidly towards one of them. He had tried ‘picking’ at the others. Here was what had happened:

                The first had hit him with some sort of electric rod. He had called it ‘lightning’. ‘ _To defeat the darkness_ ’, he had roared. Darkness meaning him, Crawly, who apparently represented all darkness and ignorance these days. At least he was no longer ignorant of what would happen if he tried to enter the Northern Gate.

                The Western guardian had only laughed at him scornfully. His laughter, being louder than a thousand trumpets, had deafened Crawly for hours.

                The Southern had threatened to call all the rest of the heavenly host down on him to smite him, which the cherub could have done in an instant. Crawly didn’t know why the others hadn’t done this, as well. It was perfectly effective at getting him to leave, and it would have saved him a lot of nerve endings.

                And so, he was feeling a bit underwhelmed by optimism as he approached the Eastern Gate. The guardian had not seen him yet. Crawly would have loved to stay hidden, but he had already checked the entire perimeter of The Garden, and unless he wanted to climb a very tall wall that was covered in poisonous thorns, the four gates were his best options. He was not the best at climbing; convincing people to let him have his way was something he could do much better. He would have to. Lightning may have hurt, but it was nothing to what his own side had been promising if he came back with a bad report. Pain there was not the same as pain on the world, but it was still something to be avoided. They had been showing more and more of a penchant for violence since their break with heaven, which he supposed made sense, given their situation. Still, he hoped it would pass over time. _It wouldn’t be the most pleasant outcome of this all, if I ended up working with people who treated each other worse than those they had rebelled against_. He thought this with an ironic, albeit nervous, laugh.

                Crawly was close to the gate now. A bit further, and he’d be out of the foliage, and visible to the angel. The fire from the sword illuminated the area. Crawly, swallowing nervously as he moved on, wished he could stay in the darkness, and the other angel’s words flashed in his memory. Maybe he fit the term more than he had thought. Then, the guardian of the gate noticed his movement. It gave a start and turned towards him.

_Here it comes_ , Crawly thought, half with derision and half with fear. _“Get thee gone, demon!” Or whatever term of banishment this one chooses. Maybe the sword won’t be so bad. At least I’ve grown used to being singed._

                The cherub squinted at him. This one had rounder features than the others, though the light from its sword cast shadows that highlighted the angle of its jaw and made its eyes seem terribly, terribly pale. A furrow appeared on its brow as it recognized what Crawly was. It opened its mouth to speak.

                “Oh, hallo.”

                Crawly blinked. He tried to speak, to take his chance to confuse the angel, and find his way of sneaking past him. But he was still partially paralyzed by fear, and even more so by confusion. The cherub held out the sword, and Crawly winced, but the guardian appeared to be using it’s light only to better see the demon. He blinked back.

                “I was wondering if one of your sort would show up.”

                “Erm, right,” Crawly said. “Well, here I am.” _Yes, this is the mastery of deceitful rhetoric that will help me survive._

                “I must say,” the angel said disapprovingly, “I was beginning to think none of your side were going to visit the world at all. You took a very long time to get here.”

                “Well, you know us. Always fashionably late.” Crawly felt himself slowly unfreezing. He took a few cautious steps forward. This did not anger the angel, who instead seemed relieved that he did not have to peer so far into the dark to see him. Crawly held up his hands reassuringly, just to be safe. “Look, I don’t know what they’ve been telling you. I’m here as—as a sort of emissary. I’m not looking for a fight.” Lying was allowed in Crawly’s new side, although technically, this time he was telling the truth. In spite of the different reaction this angel was having compared to the others, he still had a celestial weapon, and Crawly would be perfectly happy to avoid a battle.

                “Oh, good,” the cherub said, sounding relieved. He laughed. It did not sound like even one trumpet. “I’ve always said, just because they’re probably going to send someone up here to check on us, even if it is for sinister purposes—they’re always saying you’re all planning sinister purposes, which I find to be a tad melodramatic, but I suppose this whole war has been like that, hasn’t it?—anyway, just because you’re here, doesn’t mean you’re going to want to start a battle. I’m so glad we don’t have to go through all that.” He fluttered away the silly idea by waving his hand through the air.

                “Yeah.”

                The angel scrutinized him. “So, you look just like us up here, then?”

                “I guess.”

                “The way everyone was going on, you’d think your lot had all been transformed into—into—well, they didn’t think your form on earth would look like ours.”

                “What’d they expect me to look like?” Crawly snapped. He looked around for reference, then pointed. “A stick?”

                “I meant no offense, I’m sure.”

                Crawly could not figure out if this ‘guardian’ was being so nonchalant because he was a mighty warrior and knew he could defeat the demon easily, or because he was an idiot. He decided to test him.

                “So, who are you, then?” He looked him up and down, trying to confuse him with the same sort of nonchalance. “I mean, the other cherubs, I’ve heard of all of them. Can’t say I’ve heard of you.”

                “Hmm? I’m the Guardian of the Eastern Gate.”

                “Er, I know. I mean, which _angel_ are you?”

                “Oh. I’m Aziraphale.” The angel extended a hand, the one not holding the sword. Crawly stared at it in mortification. After a moment, he took it.

                He had almost expected the angel’s hand to leave his own burnt to a crisp. Instead, it left a thin layer of sweat, and nothing more. Crawly took his hand back and stared at Aziraphale in bemusement.

                “So what _are_ you doing here?” the angel asked, tilting its head. “I thought your sort weren’t a fan of God’s creations.”

                “Well, we’re, um, giving it a second chance.” Crawly looked around with an air of boredom. “I’ve been sent to, er, check up on it. See if it’s really as bad as we all thought.”

                “That’s, erm, very considerate of you.” Aziraphale’s brow creased. “I’d thought being considerate was one of those things your side found unnecessary.…Oh dear, I do hope I’m not being rude.”

                “Not at all.” Crawly waved it off lazily.

                “So, what do you think of it?”

                “Oh.” Crawly looked around him. The moon had risen by now. It made night here so much lighter than it ever was Down There. A breeze rustled the leaves, which made dark splotches against the grey sky. The corner of Crawly’s mouth turned up slightly, and he answered, truthfully, “It’s not half bad.”

                Aziraphale gave him a knowing smile. “It really isn’t, is it? Well, I’m glad you like it. Be sure to let the others know, won’t you? It’d be so nice if we could all agree on something.”

                Crawly felt himself getting distracted. He ignored the breeze and the sounds of life scuffling by in the bushes, and focused on the red glow the sword was casting against the angel’s face. “So,” he said slyly, “Aziraphael, was it?”

                “Aziraphale.”

                “Right. Don’t you ever wonder why they sent _you_ down here? I mean, it’s not the nicest post, is it? Stuck at this gate all alone….”

                Crawly stopped. The angel was looking at him with a peculiar expression. He gave a small smile.

“Well, we’re both stuck out here, aren’t we?”

Crawly nodded slowly. Aziraphale brightened up.

“I really am glad you’ve decided to give Earth a chance. It truly is marvelous. The Garden is simply exquisite. Of course, I can’t let you in. No one goes in or out. The others have some silly idea that you all are going to try to mess it up.”

                “Erm, right,” Crawly said uneasily.

                “As though that could possibly benefit you in any way.” Aziraphale smiled like it were all some kind of joke. Crawly gave a strangled laugh. “I mean, of course you must be here because of something bad, it’s what you _do_. I’ve heard about the dreadful oath of vengeance your leader has sworn. I’m sure it’s been greatly exaggerated by my end, though. Anyway, if you are trying something, there’s no point trying to get into The Garden to do it. It’s called a paradise for a reason, you know.” He sighed. “It’s a shame. It would do so much for your report to see how beautiful The Garden is on the inside. Ah well. At least there’s the rest of the world for you to see.”

                “Yeh.”

                Aziraphale frowned. “I wonder why there’s so much of the world that isn’t The Garden. What could be the point of it?”

After a moment, he shrugged. He looked back at Crawly. The demon could see the realization in the angel’s eyes that he had been talking a lot, perhaps too much to a demon. Both of them were silent.

                “So,” Crawly said after a while.

                “Yes,” Aziraphale said, looking a bit uncomfortable.

                “Yep,” Crawly added. “I’d, er. I’d better be going.”

                “All right. Well, stop by any time.”

                Crawly, who practically lied for a living, could not have said if the angel meant it if his life depended on it. As he left, he realized that it possibly did. He still had to find a way to get into The Garden. It was looking more and more like he was going to have to tackle the outer walls and avoid the gates, after all.

                He did not know why this particular encounter had left him feeling as hopeless as all the others. There was something forbidding about someone who could chatter on and on without feeling the slightest insecurity. Surely, this shouldn't have been as forbidding as lightning. He left without a single scar or physical ailment. He left without trying, nevertheless.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crawly has a job to do, but…existence is full of distractions.

10 days Before

                “You’re never going to get over that wall, you know.”

                Crawly rolled his eyes. He also, without realizing it, grinned slightly. The angel had been smiling, too.

                “Thanks.”

                “I mean it. It’s completely pointless to keep trying.” The Guardian of the Eastern Gate was not saying it as a threat, or a warning. His tone was that of someone trying to give some earnest advice. It was still incredibly irritating.

                “Just let me do my job, angel,” Crawly said with a sigh, lying back on the grass and staring at the sky, instead. ‘My job’. That was something the angel had come up with. They had all had jobs before the schism, each angel being in charge of a particular thing they were good at. Crawly supposed that now, since he was ‘good at’ messing things up, that could be defined as his job, well enough. He was not going to argue with the cherub’s choice of words. It was, at least, a nice break from pretending to be a soldier.

                “Mm.” Aziraphale regarded the reclined demon out of the corner of his eye, with his eyebrows raised. “If you’re going to go about it like that, I can see I don’t really have anything to worry about.”

                Crawly blessed. “Aziraphale, you’re giving me a harder time about it than my commanders are.”

                “I _should_ be giving you a harder time than them, since I’m your enemy, shouldn’t I?”

                Crawly grunted. He did not like to admit that the angel’s statement was true, or that his own had been a lie. He rolled over to face him irritably. “You’re supposed to be making my _job_ harder, not pushing me to do it.”

                Aziraphale considered this, then shrugged. “I suppose you’re right. I’ll be keeping an eye on you, nevertheless.” As he said that, he leaned the sword, not currently on fire, against a tree, and sat down next to Crawly with a yawn. The demon smirked and rolled onto his back again, staring at the sky that stretched above the top of the gate.

                Crawly _had_ tried to get over the wall. He was convinced that lying on the ground would be just as effective as any of the efforts he had made so far. It was impossible to climb, not only because of its height, but because of its divine protection. For a while now, he had been wandering around the outside of The Garden, instead. It wasn’t so bad. The problem was, the only company on the outside of the wall was the angel. It wasn’t like he had to be around another person, but if he was by himself he tended to roam around the walls until he ran into one of the other guardians. Aziraphale’s nagging could be frustrating, but it never got as bad as being shocked to his very core by lightning. Only close.

                As far as Aziraphale’s opinion about him popping by went, Crawly could only guess. None of the other cherubs seemed to communicate with him via whatever methods heaven was using for long-distance messages these days. That must be why the demon was never shooed away.

                So, Crawly had been back a few times, just to see if he was still there, and if he still had a sword that could be set on fire. He always did. He also always said hi, and sometimes they would talk, about nothing in particular. The atmosphere was starting to vary slightly from day to day, and this was very exciting. For the first time, there was something called ‘weather’. It always seemed a good choice of conversation.

                Crawly propped his head up with his arms and watched the sky. He was facing the gate, but Aziraphale knew not to worry that he was planning anything. The demon was watching the sunset. A myriad of new colors stretched across the earth, tickling the edges of the leaves at the very top of the wall. Crawly found himself asking questions he had been thinking for days, finally saying them out loud.

                “Why do you think He made it go all pink in places when the sun goes down?”

                Aziraphale, who had been facing the other way, turned and looked. “It’s the way light and colors work. Something to do with photons, and prisms, something like that.”

                “No, but why? He’s All-Powerful. He could have made light work differently. But instead He made it so that it’d go all rosy. Why did He do that?”

                “I’m sure He wanted the colors of the sky to follow the natural laws that He had set forth for them.”

                Crawly turned to Aziraphale and glared. “You can’t just let anything be beautiful, can you?”

                “I didn’t say it wasn’t beautiful,” said the angel, a bit testily, though afterwards he looked at the sky again. His expression softened. Crawly dropped onto his back again.

                “I think He did it on purpose. Because He knew it would be beautiful, and that we—er, the humans—would like looking at it.”

                Aziraphale considered this. He decided on a smile. “You know, that does sound like Him.”

                Crawly shrugged and kept watching the sky. He stared at the sun for so long that little dots appeared in his eyes, floating around in his vision. Soon, the sun vanished under the edge of the world, and the little dots were replaced with momentary blindness and coolness. His vision slowly returned as his eyes adjusted to the change. It was not completely dark, a bit of light still peering in from the west, assuring them that the sun was only leaving for a while, not gone forever.

                Crawly took a deep breath and stretched, then got to his feet. He looked over at Aziraphale. The angel had not been watching the sunset. He was still sitting, his head back slightly, with his eyes closed. Crawly shook his head. He took a few steps forward.

                The angel opened one eye and peered at him. “I’m not completely stupid, you know.”

                “Never said you were.”

                The angel got to his feet. “I wouldn’t fall asleep around you.”

                “What’s asleep?”

                “It’s something the humans do.”

                Crawly frowned. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was starting to want to meet these humans. Aziraphale mentioned them every now and then, commenting on some strange thing they did, usually with amusement, often with affection. Crawly knew he was supposed to view them with disdain, but they were so odd—a mixture of angel and animal. Life. Besides, he wanted to know what could be so interesting that they would capture even Aziraphale’s attention.

                The angel had grabbed his sword and returned to his place near the gate. Crawly usually took this as his sign to leave. He always stuck around for an extra minute, though, just to taunt the angel with the fact that he could make him have to ask, and therefore be rude.

                Aziraphale frowned at him, knowing perfectly well what he was doing. “Well. Isn’t it getting dark?”

                “It sure is.”

                Aziraphale sighed. “I don’t quite know why He makes the sun go down in the first place.”

                “You gotta have the dark with the light,” Crawly said with a sly grin.

                “Not at this hour, I’m afraid,” Aziraphale said firmly. Crawly’s grin faded.

                “Right.” He put on a smirk. “Well, I’ll see you around. Probably from the other side of the gate, next time.”

                “Oh, I’m certain you will,” the guardian said with an ironic smile.

                “I’m quite confident.”

                The angel chuckled, and Crawly walked away.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crawly gets an idea.

3 days Before

                The angel’s words had gotten to him. Crawly had wondered what the ‘rest of the world’ _had_ been made for. He took a walk to see.

                He didn’t understand how Existence could be so bleak. Away from The Garden, past where the plant life had spilled out of the walls, there was nothing but sand. Harder than dirt, all made of little sharp bits or pure powder that got inside you when you tried to breathe, and choked you. The dryness of the air made breathing even harder. The sun seemed to get bigger the further he got from the wall, and it beat down on him, hot like the place he had escaped by coming here. The sky stretched out forever on all sides. When he’d been around plants, he felt that they kept you securely fixed to the ground. The branches and leaves held you in close, blocking off parts of the sky so that being on earth felt like being in a defined space. It was cut off from the rest of infinity, a safe pocket of life in a vast universe of nothingness. You were always surrounded. You were not going to break away or drift off forever.

                In this desert, there was nothing surrounding you but air so dry you felt like it was about to fracture into a million pieces. You were often the tallest point on the horizon. Crawly had seen only a few animals that had ventured into this desolate wilderness along with him. Most were as dry as the air, scaly, and kept close to the ground. Crawly did not blame them. He hated stretching himself up tall and out into that endless sky. He felt the way he had felt before he’d come to Earth. No solid form, just a haze of consciousness, constantly flitting from one muddled thought to another, not even sure which were yours. In the desert he felt just as insubstantial. He felt like he was up too high. He felt dizzy.

                He came back.

                The sight of the forest surrounding The Garden filled him with relief. The sun was still rising, so he put it to his back, traveling towards the west, which would bring him, first, to the Eastern Gate that blocked his way. It was remarkably cooler already, and the greens ahead were so much more welcoming than the yellows and reds he was leaving behind. He was already feeling ridiculous for how he had lost himself out in the desert. The fresh air here was already making him feel better, and he vowed to go back some day, to prove to himself that a little sand and sky could not hurt him. He was a demon, not a mortal creature like the others on Earth, and he had been through much worse. Nevertheless, the area around The Garden was an oasis. He was not going to make a habit of denying himself the pleasures of this world, if he was going to be stuck here.

                The Earth still had the silvery look of early morning, and the wind whistled as it blew past Crawly towards the paradise in front of him. Crawly whistled, too, something he had recently discovered he could do. He strolled towards the Eastern Gate. The angel would be there, as he always was, and Crawly thought that maybe he could convince him there was something spectacular away from the wall that he simply needed to see, even if it meant leaving his post. It would be hard to come up with something better than the area around them. Even the wall looked inviting as Crawly approached it. New flowers had started to open on the hanging vines. They drew the attention of strange insects that looked like flowers themselves, floating about in the sweet-smelling air. The Eastern Gate was especially covered in these flowers. Crawly could hardly keep from grinning as he neared the gate and its guard, but he did not want to appear too in awe, in case the angel teased him for it. It was difficult. Everything was beautiful, and Crawly could see it all….

                And the angel, the bloody angel, surrounded by all this wonder, was staring at his own two hands.

                When Crawly saw him, he almost walked away in disgust. He could have done so without being rude, even though the angel should have seen him by now, because Aziraphale was so often oblivious to everything. _Not that I’d mind being rude_ , Crawly thought with a cough. Unfortunately, the cough alerted the cherub of his presence. He waved at Crawly. Crawly waved back and walked over to him, not wanting to be rude, in spite of himself.

                “Nice day, isn’t it?” Crawly asked, with a bit of a sneer.

                “Oh, yes,” Aziraphale said, a bit too quickly. He was clasping his hands together and staring at the demon with wide eyes and a very fake smile.

                “Not that you would have noticed.” Crawly raised his eyebrows and looked at the angel’s hands. “Got something interesting there, or do you just find your hands to be the most marvelous thing on this Earth?”

                “Erm…” The angel pressed his lips together, then smiled worriedly again. “Yes.”

                Crawly frowned. “Hold on. You _have_ got something, haven’t you?”

                “Oh, it wouldn’t interest you,” Aziraphale said, putting one of his hands behind his back and waving it off with the other. “It’s something the humans made. Your lot don’t care one bit for _them_.”

                Crawly felt a desperate curiosity swell inside him, and before he knew it he had lunged around Aziraphale and was trying to see into the hand he was holding behind himself. “Let me sssee!”

                “Don’t you hiss at me!” Aziraphale cried, affronted. He turned himself around to face the demon, and nearly knocked himself off balance.

                “Don’t take it ssso perssonally. I just want to see what you have!”

                “Get off!”

                “Let go!”

                Crawly had grabbed the angel’s arm. Aziraphale staggered a few paces away from him. It was the first time the demon had touched him since they had shaken hands, and for a moment, Crawly was afraid the angel was reaching for his sword. Instead, he grabbed the tree it was leaning against to balance himself. Crawly waited for him to catch his breath. He was wondering why Aziraphale bothered, when it was not really necessary for them, when he found himself doing the same thing.

                “Fine, then,” Aziraphale said snippily. “If you must. I mean, really.”

                He held out the object, and Crawly leaned forward, unable to keep his eyes from widening in his anticipation. He peered at the angel’s hand.

                On his palm was some sort of strangely shaped rock. As Crawly examined it, he realized it must have been either made by the humans, or shaped by them, somehow, from a preexisting stone. It was triangular and thin, one end longer and pointier than all the rest. It looked familiar.

                “It’s like your sword.”

                “Yes.” Aziraphale’s voice was small, and he was trying to conceal a smile.

                “They’ve made a weapon.” Crawly grinned. If the humans were developing weapons, actual physical weapons, then they would fall apart as badly as heaven had, and Crawly would not need to interfere at all.

                “Certainly not!” Aziraphale snatched back the stone and wrapped his hand entirely around it. “They were only _mimicking_ mine. They don’t even know what it’s for. They simply liked the way that it looked, ‘all shiny’, one of them said. So they tried to copy it.” He smiled with a soft look in his eye. “They’re becoming quite clever.”

                “But you took it from them.” Crawly scratched his chin and stared at the real sword thoughtfully. Then he turned with a sly grin to the angel. “You’re worried they’ll figure out what it was supposed to be for, eventually. Then they might get…ideas.”

                Aziraphale frowned at him. “When I told them how much I liked it, they offered it to me as a gift.”

                “How nice. A rock that you can never get rid of. I’m sure you’ll treasure it forever.”

                “Oh, I will,” the angel said eagerly, the demon’s ironic tone flowing through the air to his ears, and then promptly dissipating into the air. He opened his hand slightly, so that only he could see the stone. He put his face close to it to examine it, and murmured, “It should last quite a long time….”

                Crawly watched the angel with a blank confusion. The rock had not been very pretty, and it did not really look much like the sword…but he had to admit, the fact that they had made it was fascinating. They must have found something harder than stone to break this one into just the right shape. Maybe they used another stone against it. And then, Crawly thought, it was odd enough that it had even occurred to them to make one object look like another, without the intention of using it for the same purpose. A useless copy. It was almost charming in its senselessness.

                Crawly was also surprised by the attention Aziraphale was giving to the small object. As he marveled at this, however, another thought struck him. His eyes lit up and a slow grin spread across his face. He cleared his throat to politely call back the cherub’s attention.

                “Erm, the humans made that for _you_ , did they?”

                “That’s what they tell me.”

                “Have they made presents for the other angels?”

                The corners of the guardian’s mouth curved into a shamefully proud smile. “Actually, they told me they’ve hardly spoken to the others at all. They’re too standoffish. It’s no wonder, the way they’re always marching about, as though they were trying to keep the humans in instead of keeping people like you out. It scares them, the poor dears.”

                “Hmm. The other angels must be jealous.”

                “Well, I never speak to them. But the one called Adam told me that some of the others have tried talking to them, only he was alarmed by their loud voices and runs away every time.”

                “And I’m sure you told him that he has nothing to worry about.” Crawly was trying not to let his excitement show too much. He did not want the angel to become suspicious, but he had finally gotten an idea.

                “Of course, I assured him that all angels are perfectly safe.” Aziraphale gave him a look. “But I told him if they ever saw someone fitting your description sneaking around, he’d better not talk to you.”

                “Quite right, too,” Crawly replied. “I’d probably do something dreadful, like teach them sarcasm. Well, I’d better be off. I’ll leave you to admire your rock.”

                “Oh. Er, goodbye, then.”

                “Yeah.” Crawly waited until he was not facing the angel anymore, then grinned. He kept his pace casual until he reached the trees and undergrowth that would hide him. Then, feeling optimistic for the first time in a while, he ran.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crawly has put his idea into action, and there were…consequences.

Evening

                Crawly moved himself across the ground along the outer wall of The Garden. Moving was…different now.

                It was slower, for one thing. He tried not to be too bothered by that as he slithered along. He had always liked looking around him as he traveled through the world. The vantage point was a bit lower, now, but at least he could still see. His eyes, in fact, were exactly the same. So he shouldn’t mind the slowness, really. It was not like he had anywhere to get to. He had finished his job.

                It had been easy, once he had the idea. The angels who had stayed with heaven were not so different from those who had fallen, really. They all fell for the same vices. The guardian of the Northern Gate was no exception.

                Crawly had chosen him because it was easier to be heard when the person you were talking to did not have the voice of a thousand trumpets, and because he needed someone isolated, not someone who threatened to call on their friends for backup. The plan would not have worked with Aziraphale at all. The demon had told the guardian of the Northern Gate that he had a message from Adam. This wasn’t true, but it was something he could say fast enough to stop the cherub from smiting him on sight. Once he started talking about how the humans liked Aziraphale better, the guardian could think of nothing else. All he had needed was a chance to talk to him; his words always did their work. Crawly had told him that the humans were afraid of him.

                Then, leaving his words to sink in, he had pretended to leave, instead hiding himself nearby. He threw rocks at the wall behind the angel when he wasn’t looking. The guardian thought the noises were the humans, and so, to avoid frightening them, he had left his lightning rod and opened the gate to look for them. Crawly had slipped through while he wasn’t looking. It had been almost pathetically simple.

                Sneaking in now would have been even easier. Not only was his new form much smaller, but it was practically made for slipping through cracks.

                Crawly slid across the earth, through the leaves and grasses, tasting the air as he went along. He did not know what he was afraid of. There was nothing here that could hurt him more, but he tasted the air anyway, since it was much harder to see and hear from down here.

                He was not entirely certain where he was going, now. After his…run-in…with the Lord, he had left The Garden immediately. Truth be told, it had nearly scared him to death. Truth be told, _really_ , he was amazed that he _wasn’t_ dead. He should have been grateful the curse had been so minor.

                But he was cold. There was something wrong in his blood. As he slithered through the forest, he thought back on when he had used to like the coolness, the feeling of freedom it had given him. He could barely handle it now. Coldness was a part of the curse. He remembered when Aziraphale had questioned the reason for the sun going down, and realized, sadly, that from now on, he would hate the sunset, too.

                He realized where he was probably going to go. He did not know why he was headed for the Eastern Gate, since its guardian would probably be angry with him. But his anger came with fire, and Crawly needed heat as much as he had used to hate it.

                He finally made it to the gate. The sun was still up, although it was almost covered by the new clouds that were forming. The angel was looking up at them worriedly. Crawly felt his heartbeat escalate when he saw him, but he forced himself to approach the angel anyway. Since he was so small, he was almost at his feet by the time Aziraphale saw him.

                “Oh. It’s you.” Aziraphale’s tone was more disapproving than furious. It sounded close enough to how he usually did when he was scolding the demon, only slightly angrier. Crawly was relieved.

                “Yesss.”

                “You look…erm.” Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. “Different.”

                “It wass the curssse,” Crawly said. He was going to have to focus on not hissing again. For some reason, his new form had made his nervous tick come back worse than ever.

                “Oh, yes,” Aziraphale replied. “I do remember something about that. You’re supposed to have your head bruised by all of the humans’ offspring, too, aren’t you?”

                “I’m ssupposed to bruise their heel, alsso,” Crawly said defensively.

                “Yes. I suppose that’s all you could reach.”

                Crawly’s eyes glinted at him, but Aziraphale did not notice, as he was in the process of sitting down next to the serpent. Crawly, surprised, coiled himself into a more comfortable position. The bitterness left his voice when he added, “I should be able to break the physical part of thiss curse eventually. I’ll have a form like yourss again sometime, sooner rather than later, I bet.” He did not at all feel as confident as he sounded.

                Aziraphale nodded absent-mindedly. He was squinting off into the distance. Crawly tried to look where he was looking, but there were too many plants in his way. He stretched his head above them.

                “What are you looking for?”

                “I’m just trying to see where they are now,” the angel sighed.

                “Ah.” Crawly shifted himself, feeling a bit squirmy.

                “They’ve been banished, you know,” Aziraphale added, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye.

                “Erm, yes. I was there for that, too.”

                “Ah.”

                He had told Eve to eat the fruit because, frankly, there had been nothing else to do. He was supposed to stir up trouble, but not kill the humans. That would have only sent them back to their maker, apparently—Crawly was not entirely sure how the mechanics worked. He could have destroyed The Garden, but the message his side was really trying to get across was that the creations were not so perfect after all. Crawly felt that this should have come with the addendum that people who were not perfect should be forgiven, but he had been drilled so much with thoughts of revenge by his superiors that he only felt this thought unconsciously. Below had only wanted God to be angry with the humans. They had the entire Garden and unlimited freedoms. In the end, there had not been many options. Crawly had told Eve to eat the fruit because it was the only thing she was not supposed to do. Of course, he would make it seem like some grand plan when he made his reports. He wondered if, now that his job was done, they would consider him done with his time on Earth, too.

                He looked at the angel. “I guess you’ll be going back to heaven now? Since there’s not much left to guard in The Garden?”

                “I’m not actually sure. I’m supposed to guard the Tree of Life, but who knows what they’ll need of me once the humans are far enough away for that to become unnecessary. I was told about their exile in a very brief heaven-wide message. I expect I’ll get the details of my new assignment later.”

                Crawly nodded. “I don’t know where I’ll be next, myself.” He could not stop himself from talking. “I really meant it when I said I didn’t mind this place, you know.” A nervous laugh bubbled up out of him. “Although I guess I messed it up, a bit. Er.” He winced.

                “Won’t your superiors tell you where to go? Now that you’ve finished your job here?”

                Crawly nodded. So that was what the angel thought of it. He had just done his job. Aziraphale did not seem exactly pleased with it, nevertheless, but Crawly was still relieved.

                He watched the angel. He tried to turn away, to watch the rest of the world, where the humans were presumably traveling. He looked back at the angel again. He felt unendurably uncomfortable with the silence, so he said the only words he could think of. “Well. That one went down like a lead balloon.”

                Aziraphale was not listening. He was staring out across the Earth with a wrinkled brow. As a gust of wind blew by, he shivered. Crawly wished he could do the same. Snakes were awfully limited.

                The angel of the Eastern Gate put his wings over his head to shield himself from the first few drops.

                “I’m sorry,” he said politely. “What was it you were saying?”

                “I _said_ , that one went down like a lead balloon,” said the serpent.

                “Oh. Yes,” said the angel.

                Crawly could feel the words building up inside of him, pushing against his tongue to be free. He could sense that the angel would hardly listen to them, anyway. But there seemed to be a pattern to these sort of things. Crawly sometimes felt as though he had less free will now that he had rebelled. He was not sure if it was his new physical form, but his old propensity for saying what he was thinking without considering the consequences was playing up again. Someday, he told himself, he would be able to sit in silence and not say a word. Tonight, he let himself keep talking.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The curse changed a lot. But the day after changed everything.

The New Start

                Crawly slithered cheerfully across the land. He had just gotten back from Below—the comparison made Earth seem more like heaven than the heaven he could remember. The trip had gone well, though. His superiors had been very pleased with his work. They had even threatened him with a dukedom, but he had wormed his way out of that one, saying that he enjoyed doing his job too much to ever settle down to such domestic purposes. He may have offended a duke or two, but the rest of his bosses seemed impressed, and they had given him dominion over Earth, instead. He was to continue manipulating the humans until…well, until Below was happy, which Crawly thought might possibly be never, given their temperaments, so he had reentered the world with optimism. Things were finally looking up.

                He slithered towards the Eastern Gate to tell Aziraphale the news. He was not going to mention the part about his new task, feeling that he had been a bit too honest lately. When he reached the gate, the angel was standing near it, looking a bit aimless. He had given away his sword, but he had no one to guard the gate from, anyway. Crawly had seen that the humans had reached the desert part of the outside world. There would be no coming back.

                “Hallo.” Crawly slithered towards the angel, who looked down at him with an odd expression. Aziraphale had always looked a bit uncomfortable on first seeing him, but Crawly could tell that this time, something was different.

                “Erm.”

                “Ssso,” Crawly said, trying to act like everything was normal. “What are you up to, today?”

                The angel turned to him with his fists on his hips. “I learned something interesting this morning. Would you like to hear it?”

                Crawly bristled under his passive aggressive tone. “You and I do not always find the same things interessting, angel,” he said with a sneer.

                “Apparently, our differences are supposed to be a bit more than that.”

                Aziraphale was giving him a what-do-you-have-to-say-for-yourself kind of look, but Crawly was too confused to say anything at all. Surely his worst crime was the one the angel already knew about. The demon tried to think back on what he had done during the war, but it was all such a blur.

                “I am not even supposed to be talking to you,” the angel said. His brow furrowed. “At all.”

                “Ah.”

                Aziraphale leaned down towards him with a stern look. “And you knew that, didn’t you?”

                “Eheh.” Crawly tried to shrug without any arms. “Well, I don’t know what your side’s rules are. And my side, well…” He smirked. “We’re known for breaking rules, aren’t we? So none of my bosses could really be that upset….”

                “I knew I was not to let you into The Garden, obviously,” Aziraphale said reflectively. He sat down, without realizing himself. Crawly said nothing and coiled himself into his usual position. “I hardly thought it would matter that much whether or not I spoke to you,” the angel went on. “But now I see, of course, that they think your sort are too dangerous, even to talk to. I suppose they were right.”

                Crawly opened his mouth, about to point out that he had not tricked him in particular. Instead, all he could do was let out a drawn-out hiss.

                “Well,” Aziraphale said with a sigh. “I ought not to keep talking to you, then, if it’s against heaven’s orders.” He looked at Crawly, then noticed himself sitting next to him in surprise. He stood up quickly. Crawly hissed again. Aziraphale frowned. “I suppose we are different, really. The different animals are all called ‘species’, here. Do you think that’s what we are? Different species?”

                Crawly tilted his head. “Dunno. Couldn’t say.”

                “I knew we had different opinions on things. But according to the other angels, your lot work differently altogether. We simply don’t think the same way you do.”

                “Hm.”

                “Well. Isn’t it getting late.”

                Crawly nodded. He did not feel like pushing the angel to be more direct today. He stretched himself and started to turn.

                “I would leave, myself,” Aziraphale said, with a tone of concern. “Only, I can’t leave my post. You understand.”

                “Oh, right.” Crawly paused and looked back at him. “You’re just going to sit here forever and watch them, then?”

                The land outside The Garden, beyond the short stretch of forest, was flat and barren. The ethereal beings could see far greater distances than the human eye.

                “It’s what I’m supposed to be doing,” Aziraphale said. “I have to stop them getting back in.”

                “Hmph, that’s a fine job. You’ve got paradise three steps away from you, and you’ve got to be facing away from it for all eternity. Can’t even look back.”

                “I notice you’ve been watching them, too.” The angel sounded suspicious.

                “Yyes,” Crawly admitted. Before he could stop himself, he added, “I have my job to do, too, you know.” He groaned inwardly. He still had to work on keeping quiet about things.

                Aziraphale nodded, unsurprised.

                Resigned, Crawly grumbled, “Not that there’s much to keep a watch over, there being only two of them.”

                “I expect more will be on the way, soon,” Aziraphale mused. “There’s supposed to be a great many, eventually, you know.”

                “Right, right.”

                The two were silent for a moment. This time, Crawly did not wait for the angel to give any hints. He turned and began to move, for the first time in a while, towards the desert. The angel did nothing to stop him.

                It seemed to take less time to get out of the forest, this time around. Since arriving at Earth, the area of greenery around The Garden had grown small to his perception. Perhaps it was a good thing he was getting out to see more of the world.

                He was not so worried about the empty flatness of the desert, now. His new form was made for it. He would never feel too tall again. Plus, he was going to be stuck in this physical shape for quite a while, so any thoughts of accidentally drifting away into formless consciousness could be easily dismissed. The blank desert held no threat that was comparable to what Crawly had been through. He supposed he had no reason to fear it anymore.

                And—he thought, as he watched the small flicker of light in the distance, and the two small shadows that wavered near it—this time around he would not be alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I'm going to eventually post two more stories in this series, Farsighted, which will take place shortly after the almost-Apocalypse. They won't be directly connected to this one, but there are parallels, like the countdown style and a few references to the way I imagined their time at the Beginning. Basically, they'll be separate stories, but set in the same universe. And they will wrap up the story of our favorite supernatural beings in a happier way than this one does :)


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